Mercy’s descent

I remember those happy days,
those golden days when love was like the air we breathed.
Like an old paperback, faded, yellowed,
those memories have slowly begun to die.
I still see Mercy’s smile;
but now my sight grows dim…

Falling. Slowly. Achingly slowly.
Out of the comfort of darkness, a breathlessness.
Dawn? Dawn be damned.
Crisp, white sheets flapping on the veranda,
but there, there on the deathbed of morning
a farewell warning coming late.
Much, much too late…